


Sweet Scent

by stilinskisoul



Series: Derek/Reader ficlets [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Has a Crush, Derek and his Instincts, Derek has a lot of interior dialogue, Derek is trying to restrain himself but Stiles is making it really hard for him, Derek's Wolf has a life on its own, F/M, POV Alternating, POV Derek Hale, POV First Person, POV reader, Possessive Derek, Protective Derek Hale, Reader and Derek are Mates, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles ships the Reader/Derek relationship, Sweet Derek, derek hale imagine, idk im still contemplating, it's practically an individual character, maybe possible smut later on, she and Stiles love each other a lot, she is Stiles' elder sister in fact, snarky shit, the Reader is a Stilinski, therefore Derek is obsessed with Reader's scent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5706859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinskisoul/pseuds/stilinskisoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Derek meets Stiles' elder sister, he can barely control his inner wolf, because the animal has gone nuts for some reason Derek can't put his finger on. While he's slowly realizing what makes his wolf generally jittery when he's around the Reader, some things happen and he finds himself before an ultimatum: he either tells everything about the supernatural to the Reader, or he will lose her. Sweetness ensues.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Unbeta'd, unfinished, but will probably continue it if there is demand for it.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Scent

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very first Reader/Derek fic I have ever written. Enjoy!

I was in the forest, hiking, when I first caught that scent. I immediately decided to take a turn and figure out who that belonged to, because... I had never got such a feeling after getting such a tiny whiff of something. I easily found my way through the woods, leaping over fallen crusts of trees, moving my body so that it won't collide into anything massive, just into some thin twigs. At the same time, I made sure that I made the least amount of noises so that I won't scare away whoever that was.

 

The closer I got, the stronger the scent got, which had an insanely intense impact on my senses, and on me in general too. I even had to stop for a second to compose myself from this disorganized state I got into by a mere _scent_. I could feel my eyes bleeding red, and my fangs elongating, but I willed them to retreat. However, I could do nothing about my ruby-pierced eyes.

 

I continued my swift run towards the source of the sweet smell, and soon I arrived to a steep hill. I slipped, and it was a near call I would end up stumbling down on the side of the hill, but I managed to catch a tree and hold onto it. If I scratched it with my claws in the process, I didn't notice it, because the moving source I had been looking for came into my line of sight.

 

It was moving in an erratic velocity, intermittently changing its pace from walking to running – it was covered in black and silver, but I could glimpse a hint of blue and white too. Realization dawned on me when my mind caught up and informed me about the obvious; that it was a girl, who was possibly on her usual run through the woods.

 

But then why hadn't I noticed her, ever?

 

I shook my head and swept this thought into the farthest corner of my brain to dwell on it later. Right now I had a more important task to do, which was to keep an eye on this girl and figure out why her scent was so special to me. I took a deep breath through my nose, I could feel my nostrils flare and lungs expanding as they were filled with the chilly, fresh air of the forest.

 

My senses divided the usual, natural smell of the woods and the sweat covering her body from the girl's individual scent that made my wolf vicious for some reason. It was a mixture of ember, rain-soaked earth with freshly mowed grass, lime and something else that made me feel like I arrived home. That last component was warm like the beams of the sun, loving like a lover and nurturing like a mother. I couldn't exactly decipher it, but I did know I wanted it, I _wanted_ , and only for myself. Just thinking about it being taken away by someone else made my wolf roar with endless anger and bloodlust.

 

I couldn't take my eyes off her even if I wanted to – I realized with a shock that I was almost running merely on instincts, the only rational spark in my brain thankfully preventing me from launching at her right this second and taking her like the animal in me so desired. I bore with the wolf scratching at the surface, trying to break free to fulfil its wants, ignoring how its sharp claws were digging into the wall in my mind, set up only for the sake of holding it back at times like this. At times when my human side had to be in charge.

 

I dug my claws deeper into the crust of the tree and just kept my red-tinted eyes trained on her face, trying to solve it as though her whole presence was an enigma, waiting for me to solve it. Only me, and no one else.

 

. o O o .

 

When I got home, the first thing I did was rewarding myself with a glass of cold water after my exercise. My heart was nearly beating right out of my chest, my lungs were heaving, and I knew I was full of thistles. Apparently I was home alone, but it didn't surprise me – Dad had always had lots of work to do, and he'd always spent most of his days at his workplace, which is why I had to take care of my little brother so many times in the past, when we were little.

 

My brother, who was spending his time somewhere else again, like always. I didn't bother with thinking about it too much, rather went to the bathroom and took a refreshing shower to wash away the sluggish heat from my body, then lounged myself on the couch with a book, wrapped up in a quilt after throwing on some grey sweatpants and a white tee which was awfully big for me, it having been stretched out several years ago during a play fight between my brother and I.

 

It took him hours to get home, but when he did, he brought along his best friend too.

 

“I told you not to do that, Scott!” he said accusingly. I laid the book in my lap and turned, laying my arm over the back of the sofa to hold myself there more easily. I waited patiently for my brother's figure to appear in the doorway of the living-room.

 

“I know, but you know how much I love her,” he said, wrecked. I couldn't help the smile that blossomed on my face.

 

“Girl problems?” I asked. The talk at the front door was cut off in a second, and then Stiles came dashing into the room. He stopped at the entrance, staring at me wide-eyed, jaw dropped and mouth hanging open, before he moved again, practically tackling me to my spot on the couch. He hugged me so tightly I had a hardship breathing.

 

“Oh my god, you're back!” he exclaimed. “Dad said you'd be back today, but I didn't know when, and I just...” he trailed off, then smacked a kiss on my cheek. I laughed.

 

“I missed you too, bro,” I assured him, which had the desired effect on him; his smile widened more, leaving me with a few seconds to adore his happy face before Scott joined us on the furniture.

 

“Hey (Y/N), long time no see,” he greeted, and I reached out a hand, indicating to attempt giving each other a half-hug instead of a proper one, since Stiles didn't give any sign of willingness to get off me any time soon. When we released each other with Scott, he asked me, “How's college? It's hard, isn't it? I know it's hard, I don't even want to attend one yet.”

 

“Yeah, I have to study my ass off, but hey, the curriculum's interesting and I get to do a lot of lab work, so it's fine,” I chuckled, patting Stiles' back, telling him wordlessly to let go of me. Reluctantly, he obliged. As soon as he was sat next to me, he noticed the book in my hand and took it from me.

 

“What are you reading?” he asked, but I knew him well enough not to bother with replying – he was already reading the cover, so he knew it was Hawking's winning dissertation he wrote about black holes for Cambridge University.

 

“Want anything?” I asked, looking between them as I stood, ready to take their requests and inching towards the kitchen. Scott nodded.

 

“We're hungry as hell,” he said, and I only nodded with a barely-there smile on my face, skimming through ideas in my head as to what to make for these two starving explorer puppies.

 

. o O o .

 

It took them a quite long time to convince me to leave the house. I didn't plan on it, but when Stiles mentioned dropping me off at the police station, I agreed. I wanted to surprise Dad after all.

 

We sat in his Jeep. Stiles motioned for Scott to take the back seat this time so that I could sit next to my brother. According to the reaction Scott gave to that, I immediately figured out he was hardly-ever sentenced to sit at the back. Neither Stiles nor me was a touchy-feely person, so he didn't expect me to start rubbing his arms or hands, or any kind of expanse of him I could get my hands on; he just wanted the knowledge that I was right there, next to him, back here in Beacon Hills, and not several thousand miles away in college.

 

He parked close to the building – it was a pretty chilly day despite it was summer. Back at home, I had only changed my too-big tee for a black tank top and the matching sweatshirt for the pants I wore. I also left my grey sports bra on myself, not bothering to change that too. I had put back on my white running shoes, and then I had declared myself ready. Everyone knew me at the police department after all, most of them since Stiles and I had been children.

 

Just as we left the Jeep, Scott whined, “What is he doing here?” Stiles quickly whipped his head around, then noticed a sleek, ebony Camaro.

 

“I don't know, probably needed to talk to Dad,” Stiles shrugged and took off towards the station. We followed him with Scott. I fell in steps with him after having jogged to catch up to him and walk next to him. The rain started pouring softly, just a few drops dripping on us here and there.

 

“You don't like the guy?”

 

“It's not like _we_ don't like the guy. It's more like... Scott has some personal issues with him. Dad likes him, I like him, the rest of our friends like him... so yeah, pretty much everyone likes him except for Scott,” Stiles explained, then pushed the door open. He let us all inside, but then turned back to me to tell me to stay behind him to surprise Dad.

 

. o O o .

 

That scent back from the woods just from a few hours ago was back. I cursed in my mind, already knowing I will have issues with self-control. My mind started running at full speed, desperate to try and find a way to get away as fast as possible. I swatted the nasty voice in my head, mocking me how I'm scared of a simple scent, then looked around, helpless as to what to do next and more importantly, how to escape.

 

What was that girl doing here anyway? I had followed her during her entire run after then, so it was practically impossible for her to have found a corpse in the forest that she now wanted to report. What else brought people to the police?

 

“Now stay here,” said an all too familiar voice not too afar, and I realized it was Stiles. I turned my head towards the source, my back still facing him, as he neared me. He grinned when he saw me, and greeted me with a wave of his hand. “Hey, Derek,” he said, then made a beeline for the sheriff's door on which he knocked once, then twice, before being rewarded with an answer.

 

“Yes,” came the man's muffled voice through the wall and closed door. When his son opened it and he saw who came to pay him a visit, I could hear him taking a long, deep breath – possibly to settle himself and his thoughts before speaking to his only child again. “Stiles, I'm busy right now. I don't have time for...”

 

“I know,” Stiles interrupted impatiently. “And you know I left my habit of bothering you with menial things. Now it is something you definitely want to see.”

 

The scent of the sheriff changed; it went from pure anger to anger mixed with a tint of curiosity. The sound of his chair being pushed on the ground followed, then he himself showed up from behind his door with his son hot on his heels. Stiles took a hold of the man's shirt and hauled him not quite gently to where I had first heard him speak. When they walked pass me, I instantly averted my eyes and looked down to hide my pupils from the sheriff should it be illuminated by a vivid red.

 

I had no idea what Stiles wanted to show his Dad, so I followed them with my sight. I craned my neck and turned my body halfway to grant myself better view on what was going on.

 

“(Y-Y/N)?” came the sheriff's surprised voice not soon after. On its own accord, one of my eyebrows arched at the name and I full bodily turned towards them. I caught Scott's eyes, which were filled with rejection and protectiveness as soon as they met mine, but I ignored it and devoted my attention to the scene before me. Two forearms appeared at the back of the sheriff's neck as the girl – apparently named (Y/N) – hugged him.

 

“I'm home, Dad,” she said in her ever sweet tone. As her scent switched to a sugary tone, my knees almost gave out. It was like I was starved and I was forced to stand next to a bakery in the early morning when the first cookies were baked, their smell enveloping and engulfing me, coaxing me inside while it was still closed. I couldn't go inside. I couldn't have it, and it frustrated me.

 

“How's college?” the sheriff asked when they released each other and took a step back to give each other some space to give a once-over to the other. This was the first time I got to see (Y/N)'s face from up-close, and all I knew was that I wanted her to be _even closer_.

 

Then my mind clicked.

 

College?

 

This girl is older than Stiles, already in college, and she's Stiles' sister. This is why her scent was so familiar, and this is why I'd never smelled her in the woods before.

 

“Nice,” she replied, her voice a velvety smooth stroke to my ears. “I have to study a lot, though, but the curriculum's insanely interesting.” The sheriff laughed modestly as he shook his head.

 

“I still have to get used to your British accent.”

 

(Y/N) just lifted one of her shoulders and ducked her head a little. Her shyness moved something in me, and urged me to do something I couldn't pinpoint.

 

“I have to go now, but later when I get home, I expect you to tell me everything,” said the sheriff before he turned around and headed towards me, apparently to fulfil my request. He put his hand on my shoulder, giving me a look filled with warmth that hadn't been there before. His scent had also changed; it was more tender now. “I'll give it to you in a minute, son,” he promised, then disappeared behind his door again.

 

When I turned around I saw Stiles dragging his sister near me, and the next thing I knew was that my heart had jumped into my throat at some point and was beating there furiously. I was glad Stiles wasn't a werewolf at that moment, because my traitorous heart didn't give away anything about my insecure state nor giving him an opportunity to tease me with something new.

 

After a moment of consideration, Scott joined them too.

 

Stiles approached me with his sister, grinning at me again. Internally, I sighed and braced myself for whatever was about to come.

 

“So how's life been?” he asked. I shrugged.

 

“Nothing interesting,” I said, my eyes involuntarily moving to rest on (Y/N). Stiles immediately picked up on the not-hint I hadn't given him, and introduced us to each other with the girl.

 

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot about it,” he babbled, motioning between (Y/N) and I. “This is my elder sister, (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Derek Hale, resident dark and brooding, sourly lone wolf.” In my mind, I squashed Stiles down and dumped him in the trash as I presented (Y/N) with a smile I assumed was charming, according to the arched brow Scott was eyeing me with.

 

(Y/N) stuck out a hand for me to shake, my wolf going nuts in a fraction of a second at the mere _thought_ of the contact. I schooled myself, my whole being not to look like I'm starving for it, then softly grabbed her hand with mine, enveloping her smaller hand with my bigger one. I faintly registered Stiles following the sheriff into his office then, but my mind decided it wasn't important at all and so, the entirety of my attention was trained on the girl before me.

 

“I'm glad to have met you,” I said honestly. She nodded curtly.

 

“The pleasure's mine,” (Y/N) answered, then slid her hand out from my hold in a swift movement. I immediately wanted it back, but refrained from showing that externally in any way. Instead, I trained my senses on the sheriff – practically on anything that wasn't (Y/N) or her scent. However, she had other thoughts about that. “And what are you doing here? You work here?” I shook my head.

 

“No. I just needed a document.” She frowned at that, and I braced myself for the next, obvious question that was bound to come, however, never arrived. Apparently she was considerate, unlike her younger brother. “Stiles never told me he had a sibling,” I said, trying to find a topic and failing, so I ended up settling with this one. Before (Y/N) could react, Scott spoke up.

 

“Probably he didn't consider it important to mention you to her,” he said. I would lie if I said it didn't sting at all, especially because I had saved this kid's ass numerous times by now. I suppressed the wolf's reaction to his statement, instead opted to just acknowledge it with a small nod. (Y/N) had other thoughts about this too, though.

 

“Scott!” she said, her voice taming and slightly angry. Her feelings were pouring off her in waves. I could smell pure embarrassment, anger and disappointment, all of these directed at Scott, not me. “Jesus, what has happened to you? You weren't like this when I left.” I couldn't help but wonder where she'd been, which college she attended, and what was her major there. Then my mind caught up again, and I realized that I couldn't be in a better position than now to ask those things.

 

But when I opened my mouth, the other two Stilinskis came back and as soon as I was given the papers, I guessed it was high time I left. I said goodbye to all of them, then made a beeline for my Camaro and drove off, my mind and nose full of (Y/N).

 

. o O o .

 

“You have a chubby for my sister,” declared Stiles, even though he'd barely entered my loft. I turned to give him a murderous look, but just as I anticipated, it had no effect on him like it used to at the beginning of our relationship. Thankfully the others were still yet to arrive to the pack meeting. I turned around, my arms crossed over my chest, leaning back against the kitchen counter where I had been washing the dirty dishes of my previous dinner.

 

“I don't,” I denied, but my supernatural senses reassured me of my lie as my heart picked up for a second at the negative part of the sentence. Stiles grinned viciously, and unfortunately I knew _that smile_ all too well.

 

“Yeah, you do,” he insisted. “You totally do, and hey, I get it, my sister is a hot chick.” I instantly got angry – for what, I had no idea, but my wolf roared wildly, like the beast it was in reality.

 

“I don't have _anything_ for your sister,” I fought back as I followed his movements with my eyes as he came closer to the kitchen.

 

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” he said, winking at me once before opening my fridge and grabbing the bottle of milk there. I didn't even bother telling him to get himself a glass too, I knew that would be another helpless fight with him, and even one was too much when my partner was Stiles in an argument. One thought just didn't leave me alone though, dancing on my nerves there and back.

 

“What makes you think I'm attracted to her?” I asked, trying my best not to show how much I really cared about his answer. He stopped gulping the milk, set the bottle down, wiped his mouth into his shirt then shrugged. His eyes were looking towards the counter, but his sight was lost as though he was deep in thought.

 

“I saw the way you looked at her at the station,” was all he said eventually.

 

. o O o .

 

Because Stiles had been so insistent, (Y/N) was coming with us to the beach too. I couldn't have been more furious about this decision, but when he called his sister and she happily agreed to come, I couldn't prevent her from doing so any more.

 

I didn't have a problem with her joining us – I had a problem with the probability of her getting hurt. We weren't going to go there for the holiday after all, but to take down another creature that got near Beacon Hills.

 

Stiles had taken care of everything after the pack meeting as soon as he'd got home, including telling (Y/N) that we'd be leaving in two days.

 

I parked in front of the Stilinski house sharply at the arranged time only to be reassured of my predictions about everyone else being late. I smiled a mocking half smile as my fist hit the steering wheel once not too strongly. Just as I twisted in my seat to get one of my books out of my sports bag, the front door of the house opened and Stiles stepped out, waving his hand high above his head in an attempt to greet me. He'd told me he'd planned so that I would have to take one more person there, while he would deal with two. I'd been wondering who'd be the one I was going to be left with, but when Stiles began loading (Y/N)'s stuff in my trunk, my heart skipped a beat and my face went dead pale for a handful of seconds.

 

I got out of the car as though it had burnt me to interrogate Stiles about this, not necessarily in a nice manner, but I was met with (Y/N)'s sweet smile and then I knew I was screwed. I knew she thought I got out so that I could help them, so I did just that. She didn't have much stuff, just one bag she shouldered and one suitcase from the bigger kind – I could easily lift it as if it weighed nothing. I shut the trunk then searched for Stiles with my eyes, while (Y/N) found her way to the passenger seat. I walked up to Stiles to ask him about it, but he dismissed me easily with his rambling.

 

“I'm driving Erica and Lydia there,” he informed me, acting oblivious to the actual reason I approached him. “Allison is taking Scott and Isaac. I have to take a few more rounds around Beacon Hills, so you don't have to wait up. You know where you have to go, I sent you the exact place yesterday after all. With coordinates,” he added, then jumped into his Jeep and shut the door before I had the opportunity to grab his tee. He gave me one last wink before driving off.

 

I sat back in the Camaro and gave (Y/N) what I hoped was not a care-worn smile before bringing the engine back to life, simultaneously ignoring my inner wolf in favour of keeping harmony. My eyes immediately found the book overlapping (Y/N)'s thighs. As I took a turn smoothly, I questioned her about it.

 

“What are you reading?”

 

“Nothing interesting,” she replied, but I could hear the tick in her heartbeat. I turned my face towards her to give her a look that conveyed I knew about the lie. A nervous smile spread on her mouth. “Okay, it's interesting, but only to me,” she explained. I couldn't help but grin, too.

 

“How come?” I asked, slowly descending my foot against the gas pedal. I'd just realized how self-conscious I was in such close proximity to (Y/N). She shrugged with one shoulder, her eyes falling back on the pages of her book.

 

“No one has ever been interested in the things that fascinated me. Except for my peers in college, that is,” she added, and for the first time, I was glad I had failed to ask her about her major back at the station.

 

“What's your major?”

 

“Chemistry,” she said as though it was an easy thing to study. Before I could get a hold of my facial expression, it was showing an amused and equally impressed look. In the next second, her easy laughter filled the car. “What's that look for?” I snickered.

 

“I wouldn't have thought,” I admitted truthfully. I saw her cocking her head to the side like a curious cat, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to stop the car right then and there to kiss her.

 

“Well,” she said. When I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, I saw her making herself comfortable in her seat, facing forward again. As I inhaled through my nose, I could smell our mingled scent in the few cubic meters of air that was in the car, making my wolf howling in satisfaction. “The majority of our acquaintances and friends were surprised when we told them what I was going to be studying,” she said, her finger sliding down along the edge of the paper in a slow tease. “I'm also taking cosmology classes to keep myself entertained.”

 

“You do?” I couldn't resist looking at her now. She nodded. I noticed her cheeks being a bit redder than before. “That's interesting,” I said, still amazed by these revelations. I supposed intelligence ran in the Stilinski blood. “So, you never told me what your book is about.”

 

“Oh yeah,” she said, flailing just a little, which reminded me of Stiles. I smiled again with a barely-there smile. “It's _Hallucinations_ by Oliver Sacks. It's non-fiction.”

 

“So your brain never gets tired of learning I'm assuming?” I asked, and realized with a shock how playfully teasing I'd gotten at some point, which I hadn't been in a long time. She laughed, which lifted my spirits.

 

“You could say it would pretty much blow up if I didn't put it to good use.”

 

“And where do you go to college?” I asked, finding it surprisingly easy to talk to her. She wasn't as pushy as Stiles, wasn't as rejecting as Scott, and wasn't restrained by pack hierarchy like my Betas had a tendency to be.

 

“It's in England,” was all she told me, and it was enough, maybe even too much to know. My chest clenched at the thought of having to let her go in two months.

 

“Not that your accent wasn't a give-away about that,” I pointed out only to be rewarded with a chuckle again.

 

“Yeah, it sticks to you, you know? But I like it.”

 

I smiled and resisted saying, “Me too.”

 

. o O o .

 

If I thought the hardest part was over for me, that clearly meant I hadn't managed to get to know Stiles well enough.

 

“What do you mean by not having enough rooms for everyone?” I asked, trying to restrain my anger at the same time, so that I wouldn't tear off his head with my teeth nor my claws. Stiles grinned at me mischievously.

 

“I meant what I said,” he shrugged easily, not even an ounce of honest apology in his actions. “That statement doesn't really require much analysing, you know,” he said, then took a bite of his green apple. As soon as he chewed it enough to be able to talk, he spoke up again. “There are four bedrooms. Lydia sleeps with Erica, Scott sleeps with Allison, I sleep with Isaac and...”

 

“Okay, I get that,” I interrupted him, willing the bile in my throat to go down. “But why can't (Y/N) sleep with Allison?”

 

“And you'd sleep with Scott?”

 

“No, you could sleep with Scott, or he could sleep with Isaac. There are more options. Why do _I_ have to sleep with your sister?” Stiles winked.

 

“Not like you didn't want that,” he said in a husky voice after leaning closer to me. I hissed that someone might hear us, but I knew it was only the two of us outdoors to carry our packages inside.

 

“Shut up,” I ordered, fearing that one of them might decide to take a walk right now. Stiles shook his head.

 

“I'm just helping you here, dude,” he hedged. “You should be grateful. I know how much you can suck when it comes to handling your issues, and I'm just trying to help you get the girl.”

 

“Stiles, you don't understand,” I gritted through my teeth. “I may lose control if I'm too close to her. What if I do something just because I act on my instincts?” His eyes widened, but instead of getting the response I wanted, he got zealous.

 

“Oh my god, you dig my sister _that much_?” he squealed, his amber eyes sparkling.

 

“Shit, could you be quieter?” I growled, but ended up nearly choking at Stiles' next statement.

 

“Then you might care to know she's still a virgin.” I was certain my eyes flashed blood red at that piece of information. Stiles grinned.

 

“She's never been claimed?” I asked in a haze, having forgotten I should have been angry with him for tossing me into such a situation.

 

“Wow, it must have required a lot of logic to figure that one out,” Stiles shot back sarcastically instead of giving an actual answer, then hauled up his stuff and walked back to the beach house. For now, I considered murdering him with my gaze enough.

 

I only had time now to think about regretting having settled with a pair of sports shoes to wear this morning, because there was nothing in the near area except for sand covering the whole ground. I sighed in a resigning manner, then steeled myself mentally for what lied ahead and carried my luggage inside too.

 

. o O o .

 

After our first day at the beach house – which all of us had spent with packing out and taking the house as our own – I crouched down next to my still open suitcase to put the rest of my clothes away into drawers or into the wardrobe that I shared with Derek. The thought alone was enough to make my heart switch to an erratic rhythm, but I willed it to calm down by taking long, deep breaths. It was Derek's turn in the bathroom now, since he'd agreed to be the last. I'd been there just before him, hence I still had only a towel on while the rest of my body was dripping wet, leaving droplets of water all over the place.

 

I wanted to be ready by the time Derek returned, but I couldn't find my pyjamas, no matter how hard I'd looked for them, so I ended up putting on panties and ditching the cold, wet towel for a plaid spread out on the bed to wrap myself into.

 

When Derek arrived, he halted at the doorway, just staring at me. Even his hand, which was wiping away the surplus water from his ebony black hair, stopped moving. I ignored the blush I was certain was already on my face and started to explain it to him before he misunderstood.

 

“I-it's not what you think,” was what I decided to open with. I winced at the way his face scrunched up at that. I couldn't decide if it was because of the idea itself in general or the idea of doing it with me. I tried not to over think it and instead focus on what I had to say. “I can't seem to find my pyjamas. At all. I looked for it everywhere, I even checked twice and once more to make sure I didn't just slip over it or something.” I knew I was rambling, but I couldn't help it, especially because I was as nervous as possible.

 

Derek handled the whole situation stoically; he just nodded curtly, then headed for the drawer and pulled out a tee of his own for me. He slowly approached me, then handed it to me. “Here,” he said, then pointedly turned around and made his way over to the bed where one of my books had already been waiting. He picked it up and absentmindedly surveyed its cover before opening it and skimming through the contents list. When he could feel the mattress dipping near him, he crawled to the right side, which was closer to the door, and made himself comfortable at the headboard, his back resting against it and his eyes still trained on the pages.

 

“You interested in psychology?” I asked, a smile playing at the corner of my lips. He nodded, then handed the book back to me, still not looking at my face but at the blanket near my thighs.

 

“I am, for a fact,” he said eventually, simultaneously sliding his eyes up on my kneeling shape until they found my face and our gazes connected. His tee was too big for me; its sleeves reached my elbows and the hem of it was covering a bit more than a quarter of my thighs. I pushed myself off the bed to switch off the lights, then tried to find my way back to the king size bed in the darkness with my arms extended in front of me to protect me should I happen to fall. It didn't make me wait for too long; I indeed faltered in the strap of a backpack, however, I never arrived to the ground, because I was close enough to the bed by then. “You okay?”

 

I looked up where I vaguely supposed Derek's face must have been and nodded. “Yeah,” I whispered, my entire nervous system zeroing in solely on the spot where his and my skin were touching. He was squeezing my wrist and upper arm tightly, bordering on too tight, but not enough to hurt me.

 

“Come on,” he said, also in a quieter tone, which gave his voice a tender sweetness. His hand moved from my upper arm to my waist, and from my wrist to my hand, holding it gently to guide me to my side of the huge bed. My knees hit Derek's legs a few times, but eventually I managed to climb over him and settle down. He let go of me, then both of us made ourselves comfortable under the sheets, trying to will ourselves to sleep.

 

. o O o .

 

Last night, I may have been successful at hiding my nervousness and the... _hunger_ of the wolf, but in reality I had been anything but calm. After touching her and experiencing what it feels like to have a direct contact with her skin again, I could barely contain myself – even merely until she fell asleep. My mind had been attacking me with facts, like how much her heart had been pounding when I'd put my hand on her waist, the feeling I'd got when she straddled my stretched out legs for a second, and especially that she was still a virgin. The last one had especially not been unhelpful, and that had been the moment I just _couldn't_ do it for any longer, and bolted right out of the bed to take an abrupt run and explore the area.

 

When I'd got back, I'd found (Y/N), still fast asleep on the bed, but the blanket had halfway slipped down from her figure and the tee had been riding up, revealing a huge expanse of her skin of her back to me. I couldn't help but adore her womanly shape with the wide hips and the narrow-looking shoulders – her sleeping position had emphasized her physique more, making my wolf crazy like it had rabies, and scratch restlessly on the imaginary wall in my mind. I'd tried to calm it down, but I hadn't managed until I ventured to the bathroom and took an ice cold shower.

 

Yeah, I knew I was screwed.

 

In the early morning, I could hear faint noises, but I opted not to act on them. I couldn't smell an intruder, still just the two of us – and then, I opened my mouth to breathe through that instead of my nose to prevent doing something I would most likely regret later. I listened to (Y/N)'s heartbeat as it travelled through the room, accompanied by her bare feet stepping all over the parquet. She opened the glass door of the balcony, and my skin adored the chilly morning air as it licked over it. The curtain in front of the door also moved, but its sounds were unimportant to me. I tuned out the noises – the birds, the soft waves of wind, all of the heartbeats in the house, because they were black and white to me – to be able to pay full attention to the sounds that belonged to (Y/N), since those sounds were what I considered rainbow-coloured. I tuned my ears to her heart's rhythm, to her breathing pace, as though nothing existed besides those.

 

A little later I felt her hands close to my nude back. I had initially worn a shirt for bed, but I'd decided against it, because I was hot enough without that too, so I ended up wearing only a pair of black basketball shorts and boxers. The heat from her skin bled into mine, only adding to my already too high body warmth. She fixed the blanket on me, then made a beeline for the door – it was all over in a handful of seconds, but her close proximity still felt like ages to me. I opened one eye to see her back as she left the room, softly clicking the door closed. I listened to her steps, coming from gradually farther and farther, before pushing myself off the bed into a sitting position.

 

I reached for my phone under my pillow to check the time – it was 4:43 AM, and I had no idea what (Y/N) was doing up so early. I debated with myself whether I should join her or stay here, but I knew it had partially been decided already. After all, what could I do here for two more hours alone?

 

I resisted burying my face into my still warm tee, which she'd taken off a short while back, to inhale _our_ scent (for too long, that is), and walked down the stairs, still typing away on my phone to get an idea about today's weather, simultaneously following (Y/N)'s scent that led me to the kitchen.

 

“Did I wake you?” she asked, keeping her volume low as though the others were sleeping next to us. I shook my head.

 

“No,” I answered. I knew it was a lie, but I would have woken up to anyone's presence in the room, so I considered it invalid. I took a seat at the island. I liked the idea of the tall bar chairs, and as such, I wanted to take advantage of them while we were here. She gave me a small smile before turning around to face the counter again.

 

“I was thinking about making a fruit salad for breakfast,” she said. “But there aren't many fruit here, just some apples that Stiles brought and bananas, so I'll go to the nearby shop to get more.”

 

“How do you know about the shop?” I asked. She shrugged as she was washing the mentioned apples.

 

“I checked it on my phone.”

 

After short moments of consideration, I blurted, “Mind if I join you?”

 

She turned around with a wide grin on her face and said, “Not at all.” She finished her work, then faced me again. “Want something, like a cup of coffee? Or anything else?”

 

 _Yes, you!_ , roared my wolf, but I hushed it and, again, shook my head no. She acknowledged it with a nod, then set the cloth on the counter and gestured to me to follow her, which I did happily. It was like she was the puppeteer and I was her puppet – it straight up scared me how easily and willingly I obliged to any of her requests.

 

She was fully clothed by then, wearing her sports bra, a tank top and a pair of shorts, but both of us had to go back to our room; me to change and her to grab a bag and her purse. I left my shorts on me and just put on a grey wife beater, then looked at myself in the mirror on the doors of the wardrobe, which faced the bed. My hair was standing in haphazard directions, but I was too lazy to do anything about it. In the end, I didn't regret this decision, because (Y/N) approached me and asked me about it. I told her I didn't mind, but she tsked and reached up to make my short strands look more decent. I had to hold myself back from putting my hands on her hips, pulling her flush to my body and reeling her in for a kiss. At the same time, I did adore her neck and her face without make-up. I preferred to see people naturally, and not behind a mask, even though she didn't wear much and was beautiful both ways.

 

We left the house a few minutes after five. She guided us to the shop that was open 24/7. The cashier looked halfway to falling asleep, and since I'd worked at a place like this in my teens, I knew that the shift would end at six. I helped (Y/N) to collect everything she needed, then we carried the stuff to the counter in order to pay – I'd put my own wallet into the pocket of my pants, so I paid before she could have made a move to get her purse out. I helped her pack everything up and shouldered the backpack without a word. She protested a bit, but I hushed her and told her it was okay. The bag rested on one of my shoulders, hence one of my hands was free; I would lie if I said I didn't hope she would take it in hers and we would go back holding hands, but I suppressed my desires.

 

Back in the kitchen, (Y/N) started slicing the freshly bought fruits while I sat on my previous spot on the bar chair, not moving my gaze off her figure. She'd told me to just sit back and wait for the breakfast, and trust her to do everything else. The only reason I agreed was because I knew then I would have the opportunity to ogle her body without any disturbance whatsoever.

 

We were there in accompanying silence, and for the first time in my life, it didn't feel uncomfortable at all. When she finished, she put the huge bowl in the fridge to keep it cold and let the tastes of the components to mix together. For the time being, we either talked or just sat there in silence, occasionally catching each other looking at the other, it ending up in lanes of chuckles and, on her part, blushing.

 

A while later she took the salad out of the fridge and served us both some. We ate our shares in silence, but I couldn't resist telling her how tasty it was. The rest of the pack started filing in not soon after, joining us on the island. I saw Erica winking at me with a smirk, and trying to egg me on with a motion of her hand, non-verbally urging me to make further moves to hit on (Y/N), but I refused. I frowned at her in a warning, to which she just shrugged and went to get some salad too.

 

I could already hear Stiles mocking me, telling me things like “See, I told you it would be a good idea to take her with us, because she's a genius and could take care of the house while we're away.” He'd fought with such points at the pack meeting to try and convince everyone that dragging his human, ignorant-to-the-supernatural sister with us was a great idea.

 

Stiles sat on my left side, accidentally slipping on the chair and thus, pushing me up against (Y/N) for a few moments – I simply glared at him, hoping my murderous look would convey how much I wasn't impressed by his acting skills. He just grinned at me in return, and took a bite off the piece of strawberry on (Y/N)'s fork. His sister just giggled and let him do it.

 

“So, what are today's plans?” asked Isaac, hopping up on the counter on the opposite side of the island with his share in his hand. Again, I had to control the roaring wolf, viciously scratching at the door of my mind, desperately trying to get out and mark (Y/N) up. The animal telling me how well she could provide my pack was absolutely not helping me to calm down and concentrate on the task at hand. I was hauled out of my daydreaming when I noticed all of the other werewolves – Scott, Erica and Isaac – giving me the knowing _looks_. I cleared my throat.

 

“There will be a storm this afternoon,” I informed them. Scott rolled his eyes and went back to eating his breakfast. Stiles approached the fridge and poured some milk for himself, but (Y/N) asked for some too, so he also gave her a glass of it. I internally smiled at her demeanour that my wolf apparently found endearing and adorable, but then I snapped out of my thoughts again when Erica pointedly asked who wanted to leave the house.

 

“Does everyone want to leave?” I asked, looking around. I expected at least Stiles to say no, but he wanted to come with us, obviously. Suddenly a wave of uneasiness hit me from (Y/N)'s side and my nostrils flared. I looked at her. “You rather wanna stay?” She smiled at me a bit sheepishly, then nodded.

 

“It's okay if I'm alone, though,” she said, and I couldn't detect the tiniest hint of lie.

 

“Okay then,” I said, standing up before Stiles would have had another chance to try and push me closer to his sister again. The Betas and Allison left the kitchen, and I followed Stiles upstairs. When I was sure we were out of (Y/N)'s hearing range, I grabbed him by the neck and shoved him against the nearest wall. “You stole her pyjamas, didn't you.” It would have been a mistake to call that accusation a question.

 

“Yeah,” he shrugged, not showing the least amount of apology at all. It infuriated me.

 

“She had to sleep in one of my T-shirts,” I told him only to make him grin again.

 

“Well, you wanted her to wear your stuff, didn't you?” he asked, but it rather felt like a confident declaration too, just like mine. I didn't answer, just let go of him so he could go and change. I retreated to (Y/N) and my room too.

 

A few minutes later there was a soft knock on the door. I knew it was (Y/N), so I instantly gave permission to her to enter, without a thought.

 

“You really okay with staying here all by yourself?” I asked just to make sure. She nodded wordlessly, and approached the shelf where she'd set her books to pick one out to read for today. I felt a pang of guilt for leaving her alone here, with my wolf snarling at me not to leave her here without any kind of protection, but I knew I had to go. Scott might have been an Alpha too, but my Betas belonged to _me_ , and they needed _me_ to be in control. For some reason, I insanely wanted (Y/N) to be there with us too, but not as a mere Beta of mine, no. More like as my partner, the _female Alpha_ of the pack to help me regulate those teenagers on the battlefield. “We should be back soon,” I promised, but all I got was a smile and a silent “I know”.

 

Then, she left the room – _our_ room – and made her way back downstairs to wait for the others and say them goodbye before leaving. She hugged Scott and Stiles, and waved for the others. I could see her hesitating when it was my turn, but me – rather my wolf – made a decision instead of the both of us; I opened my arms up to her in an offer to hug, which she took entirely too enthusiastically and fast. It made my wolf whine contently, and I couldn't not bury my nose in her hair to take a deep inhale. When I opened my eyes again, I could see my Betas giving me the looks again, but I ignored them and, after sparing a moment to slide my palm down (Y/N)'s back, I let go of her and ushered everyone out the door. I turned back once more to give (Y/N) a smile, which she returned, and I left with a feeling that this whole scenario felt as though she was already my partner and I was taking our children to kindergarten.


End file.
